


Flirt

by secretkeeper13



Series: Craig Clarke Collection [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Mistaken Identity, Tongue-in-cheek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretkeeper13/pseuds/secretkeeper13
Summary: Craig Clarke is eighteen, fresh out of Hogwarts, and definitely not still hung up on his ex-girlfriend. When he spots a fit redhead in a pub and decides to chat her up, what could go wrong?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Craig Clarke Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184030
Comments: 76
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to try my hand at an outside perspective OC. It’s my first time venturing even slightly outside the sandbox, so I’d love any feedback! Also, I’m on Tumblr under the same name, and my asks are open, so feel free to follow me and hit me up with any asks or comments over there as well :) 
> 
> This one is for all the sweet-but-thick Craigs I’ve met over the years ;)

The sun shone through the windows of the Three Broomsticks, casting rays of light across the dark wooden booths and tables. The pub was crowded- it was a Saturday, after all, and from the looks of it, plenty of Magpies fans had decided to apparate directly from the match, their black and white jerseys giving the room the appearance of a wonky chessboard. It was still late afternoon, so families with small children were mixed in among the regulars, contributing to the noisy din. 

The table his mates chose was near the entrance, and he sat facing the door as he talked and laughed with them. It was strange, being here, all together, the six of them, now that they were out of school. They were still close- it was hard to live with people for seven years and not become friends. Though, he’d heard stories from others who couldn’t stand the people in their dormitories, so they were lucky in that regard, he supposed. 

They’d been at the pub for less than an hour, after walking down from Dan’s flat on High Street once the match ended. He’d missed being around his mates every day, and they’d quickly made up for lost time, talking, joking, and laughing as if they were back in the dorm at Hogwarts and no time had passed since they’d all been together last. 

“Let’s hear it Craig, got yourself any birds recently?” 

Dan’s teasing tone jolted him out of his thoughts. His cheeks colored a bit at being called out.

“Nah, mate, Craigey-boy’s still hung up on Cressida,” Will chimed in, and Craig shot an annoyed look at his flat mate.

“I’m not hung up on her. And I have been out with other girls, you’ve been there. Stop taking the mick.” 

Will grinned at him and raised his eyebrow. “Haven’t brought any home though, have you?” 

Craig sighed. When he and Cressida split up this summer after seventh year, it hadn’t been on bad terms. She was off to Egypt to be a curse breaker for Gringotts, and he had no desire to leave England, so they’d gone their separate ways. He’d been happy living as a bachelor in London with Will, but he did miss her. Well, he missed the companionship of having a girlfriend, he supposed, trying not to think about her piercing blue eyes, the casual way she would ruffle his hair, or the way she kissed. He’d supposed that being with someone for so long- nearly two years- made it harder to move on. He couldn’t really picture being with anyone other than her. 

“It isn’t like I haven’t been trying. You saw me get off with that girl outside the Leaky last month. Wouldn’t shut up about it for days, in fact.” 

Will laughed. “Didn’t bring her home though.” 

He hadn’t brought her home. She was good looking, but not as pretty as Cressida. And to be honest, she hadn’t been a very good snog either, so really, what was the point? 

“Mate, you need to get a leg over. It’s been what, six months now?” Ben asked. 

Craig glared at him. They all knew full well how long it had been since he and Cressida split. Ben grinned back at him. 

“Well, maybe today’ll be the day,” he shot back. 

“To Craigey getting laid!” Will called, and they all raised their glasses to toast him in jest as he flipped them off with two fingers. 

Not a quarter hour later, he happened to look up just as a gorgeous girl walked in the door of the pub. She was petite, and wearing a tight turtleneck sweater in dark green, with red hair cascading past her shoulders down to her tits, which were full for her small frame. She glanced around, as if looking for someone, then headed over to the bar. Craig’s stomach fluttered in anticipation. This could be exactly what he’d been waiting for. 

“Next rounds on me,” he said to the table, gesturing over to the bar, where the girl stood. Her position at the bar meant that her back was to their table, so they couldn’t see her face, only her long, shiny red hair. She was wearing tight, tan trousers tucked into brown boots that came up to below her knees, and she had a fantastic arse, he noted. 

Will made a low whistle and nodded in appreciation. 

“Go get her Clarke,” Dan said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Craig stood up and walked over to the bar. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. He was nervous, and a bit tipsy, as they’d cracked open the firewhisky as soon as they’d arrived at Dan’s place. He took a breath to steady himself, then he sidled up next to her at the bar. 

“Packed today, isn’t it?” he said, trying to sound casual, as if he chatted up fit girls all the time. 

“Yes, by the looks of it we’re in for a bit of a wait,” she said, looking at the lone barmaid and the patrons stacked two deep up and down the long bar. 

“Well, in that case... I’m Craig. Craig Clarke,” he said, extending his hand and giving her a boyish grin. 

She looked surprised for a second, but then she took his hand and shook it, her hand small and warm in his. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Craig,” she said, smiling. She exuded confidence. Her eyes were a lovely shade of warm brown and seemed to shine in the afternoon light. 

He was so captivated by her that it was only later that he realized she’d never told him her name.

“Do you come here often?” he asked, and as soon as he said it, he inwardly cringed at the obvious line.

Her lips turned up into a small smile, almost like a smirk, he thought. 

“Not since I was in school.”

“Oh, I went to Hogwarts as well. Just finished last year. Hufflepuff. What house were you in?”

“I was a Gryffindor,” she replied, and her smile got broader and more impish, making his heart beat faster. 

She wasn’t in his year, or he obviously would’ve known her. There was something oddly familiar about her, though- like he knew her, but couldn’t place her. She must’ve been a year or two ahead of him. Maybe he’d seen her in the corridors. He wouldn’t have forgotten a face like hers if he’d met her properly, of that he was certain. 

“I didn’t know many Gryffindors outside of my year. Dated a Ravenclaw though. Spent far too much time in their common room, unfortunately.” He was rambling like an idiot, he thought, but unable to stop himself.  _ And, why, why was he mentioning his ex?  _ Her smile was dazzling and it was too much, almost like looking directly into the sun. 

“You and me both.” 

“Swotty lot aren’t they?” 

She laughed, a silvery tinkling sound, and her nose crinkled up a bit, which was adorable. He was smitten. 

“I don’t normally come up to Hogsmeade either anymore, but one of my mates in my year works for Dervish and Banges, and we all came to his today to listen to the Montrose game.”

“Over quick, wasn’t it? Their new seeker had quite the debut.”

“You follow Quidditch?” he asked, delighted, though it was clear she did. She really was perfect, this girl. 

“In a manner of speaking,” she said, almost coyly, and that smirk had returned. 

“Which team do you support? I’m a Puddlemere man myself. Muggle born, so I got into it late. Brilliant sport though.”

“Harpies, through and through.” She bit her bottom lip, as if to keep from smiling wider. Her coy looks were driving him mad. 

He wanted to keep the conversation going. Hopefully, he could work up the courage to ask her out. 

“I live in London now. I work for the Magical Menagerie, caring for all the animals there. What do you do?” he asked. Perhaps she lived in London too. Maybe they’d know some of the same people, and he could invite her out with a group of his friends. 

“Well, I’ve just had a bit of a career change. I’m a correspondent for the Prophet now.”

“Do you like it?” 

“I just started, but yes, so far I do.” 

“Well good luck with the change. My mate Will,” he gestured over to the booth where his friends sat, “just went through the whole career change bit. He took a job at the Ministry in the Department of Transportation right out of Hogwarts. His Deputy Head was a real stickler- impossible to work for, everything had to be just so- you know the type. He only lasted four months before he managed to get a transfer over to International Magical Cooperation. He likes it much better there, thankfully.”

“Yes, I definitely know the type,” she said, and her right hand covered her mouth as she seemed to suppress a giggle. He wasn’t sure what was funny about his comment, but he didn’t much care so long as he was making her laugh. 

“Oi, Clarke, what’s taking so long? You getting our round or what!” his friends heckled him from the table. 

“Come off it, it’s packed,” he called back, but they were all clearly engrossed in some drinking game they were playing and just ribbing him. 

He turned back to her. “Sorry about my mates. Bunch of blokes together, you know how it is.” 

“I’m very familiar, trust me.” There was that smile again, so coy. 

“What’ll it be love?” the haggard barmaid asked as she finally reached them.

He turned to her and smiled. “What would you like? It’s on me.” 

“Oh,” she said, looking apologetic, “I couldn’t possibly, it’s really alright.” 

“No, I insist, you’ve been such good company, let me buy you a drink.”

“No really, I-“

“Oh come on love, let him buy you the drink. I don’t have all day. Bars two deep right now,” said the barmaid, looking extremely exasperated. 

“Just a butterbeer for me please,” she said to the barmaid, and then he placed the order for their round. 

“Craig,” she said as the barmaid walked away.  _ God, he loved the way his name sounded when she said it.  _ “Listen, you’re very kind, but...” 

“Mum-Mum! Mum-Mum!” 

A baby, maybe a year old, babbling nonsense, appeared on her other side in the arms of a tall man wearing a baseball cap. The baby grasped her long hair, the smooth copper strands peeking through his tiny fist. He had thick, dark hair that stuck up in the back, and big brown eyes. Eyes that were exactly the same shade as hers, Craig noticed. 

“Oh, Jim-Jams,” she cooed, taking the baby from the arms of the tall man holding him.

He was confused. Surely, she didn’t have a baby? She was probably only a year or two older than he was.  _ Maybe a nephew,  _ he thought.

The man who handed the baby to her was holding a knapsack over his shoulder and looked a bit frazzled. “I’m sorry we’re late, Gin. Didn’t expect the game to end so quickly. And then, on the way out, I turned my back for a half-second to grab more floo powder to refill the tin on the mantle, and he crawled into the loo, pulled himself up, and was splashing his hand around in the toilet. Had to give him a bath, didn’t want to chance a charm with that.”

She winced, then chuckled. “I told you he’s getting fast! And it’s alright, don’t worry. Neville’s not here yet either. He sent me a patronus that he’d got tied up with something. He should be on his way down now.”

Craig’s confusion grew. Who was this Neville? He hoped it wasn’t a boyfriend she was meeting. 

“Mum-Mum!” the baby said again, as he settled on her hip, breaking into a wide, four-toothed smile. 

She beamed down at the baby. “Hello, James. Mummy missed you, cheeky little monkey.” She reached her left hand up to stroke his cheek, and he noticed, for the first time, her wedding ring. 

At this, the wheels, which had been turning far too slowly in his head, finally clicked into place. 

He felt his face flush with complete embarrassment. He’d just been trying to chat up a married woman- the mother of a baby, for fuck’s sake.  _ Well done, Craig _ . She probably thought he was a complete cad.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said to her, his words rushed and incredibly apologetic. “I didn’t realize, I had no idea...”

She held up her hand and smiled at him. “It’s alright, you were very kind, really.” 

“Gin, I think I see Neville on his way,” the man said. The man (her husband, Craig corrected himself, groaning inwardly at his absolute stupidity in failing to realize this sooner) was looking out the front window, onto High Street. Craig hoped he’d missed their exchange. 

The man turned back to face their direction, his round glasses catching the light. He looked at Craig with a bemused expression. Dark stubble lined the man’s jaw, and black hair was visible under the cap. He looked a bit like Harry Potter, Craig thought, thinking of the Witch Weekly poster Cressida had of him for ages. Quite a lot, actually. 

Then, realization, followed immediately by absolute horror, washed over him as he looked back at the red-haired woman. 

Ginny Potter. He’d been trying to chat up Ginny Potter. The star chaser for the Harpies, whose poster had hung above Ben’s bed in the dormitory since fourth year, for fuck’s sake. How had he not realized it? Ginny Potter, who’d been on the cover of every newspaper for months when she’d decided to retire because she was having a baby. Harry Potter’s baby. He’d been hitting on Harry Potter’s bloody  _ wife _ for the last five minutes.

His jaw was agape as he stared at her and tried to form words. He probably looked like a giant goldfish, he thought. 

“You’re...” he gulped, still looking at her, his cheeks on fire. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize you. I’m a bit drunk, you see. And I thought you were maybe a year or two older than me, not...” he trailed off, feeling like a complete idiot and wanting nothing more than to disappear. 

She laughed, but it was genuine and not unkind. “Don’t apologize, it was refreshing, actually. Gives me hope for an anonymous future,” she said, and she winked at him. He felt his face flush even more. 

He turned to the man,  _ to Harry Potter, _ he corrected himself. “Mr. Potter, sir, thank you. I’m Muggleborn and started at Hogwarts a year after the battle. Wouldn’t have been able to go without all you did.” 

God, he was babbling like an idiot. The baby was more coherent. 

Harry Potter shifted a bit and looked uncomfortable at his praise. “That’s very kind of you to say. But I had loads of help, it wasn’t just me.” 

“Daaaa,” gurgled the baby, who now had his hand on Ginny Potter’s breast, patting it happily. Craig immediately tried to look anywhere else. His face was even redder, he was certain. He stared at the bar top as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. 

Just when he thought his humiliation was complete, he heard a familiar voice.

“Hullo Harry, Ginny. And James! Merlin, he’s grown! Getting to be a big boy now, aren’t you?”

Craig looked up into the round, smiling face of his favorite professor, who was pretending to shake the baby’s hand as the baby gurgled and laughed. Oh, how he wished the day would end. 

“Hello, Professor Longbottom.” 

“Clarke! How’s the Menagerie going? I’ve missed your N.E.W.T. class this year more than I can say.”

“It’s going well, sir. I’m actually in charge of preparing all the food for the creatures- we’ve got a small greenhouse off the back, so I’ve been doing some growing myself.”

Professor Longbottom looked pleased, but then he asked the question Craig was dreading. “Craig, have you met Harry and Ginny Potter?” 

“Oh, erm, yes actually...” he stammered, unable to think of how to politely phrase that he’d just tried to chat up Mrs. Potter because he thought she was fit and didn’t recognize her. 

“Craig was kind enough to keep me company while I waited for Harry to arrive,” Mrs. Potter interjected. He shot her a grateful look.

“Drinks, loves.” The barmaid returned with a butterbeer and six glasses of firewhiskey. 

Craig paid her and turned to Mrs. Potter to hand her the butterbeer.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him, as Harry Potter put his arm around her waist.

“Rosmerta’s saved us the back corner booth,” Professor Longbottom said, glancing to the empty booth tucked away in the far corner, away from the bar and the tables, “We’d best be off before these two are recognized by anyone else.”

“Goodbye, Professor, Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” he said, nodding to them. “Enjoy the afternoon.”

“Goodbye Craig,” Mrs. Potter said, smiling at him, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “And if you wouldn’t mind not mentioning it to anyone else that Harry is here, we’d appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said, nodding, just wanting the whole thing to be over. 

“Bye-bye,” said the baby, waving unprompted at him.  _ Great, even the baby was having a go at him,  _ Craig thought. Mrs. Potter laughed delightedly, and Mr. Potter exclaimed, “Clever boy, James!” They turned and walked off towards the back corner booth. 

When they were gone, he finally exhaled, and slumped against the bar. He motioned over Will to help him carry the drinks back to the table.

As soon as he sat down, he began to gulp his firewhisky in earnest, wanting to forget that the horribly embarrassing incident had ever occurred. 

“So what happened, mate?” Dan asked.

“Oh, erm, turned out she was married. Talked to her for a few minutes before I saw the ring.” 

“Tough luck,” said Will. “Didn’t get a good look at her face, but she was fit.” 

Craig nodded, still drinking. “What are you playing?” he asked, eager to change the subject, and then he threw himself into their game of 21, wishing for all the world that he and Cressida had never broken up. Not just because he missed her, which he did (he finally admitted to himself)- but because if they hadn’t, this never would have happened. 

An hour and a half and more firewhisky later, Craig was feeling pleasantly numb. Some of the mortification had subsided, at least. And then suddenly, he looked up, and she was there, alone, standing next to his chair.

“Craig, we’re heading out, but thank you for being so kind earlier. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered.”

“Oh, erm, it was nothing, really,” he said, feeling himself blush and wishing he could sink into the stone floor and disappear. 

“Rosmerta will be over in a mo’. The next rounds on me, boys, enjoy yourselves,” she said to the table, before giving Craig a wink and a wave. Then, she turned, walked out the door, and disappeared with a pop before the door swung shut. His friends immediately turned to him.

“Was that?!”

“She’s bloody fit she is. Even better than in photos.” 

“Damn, Harry Potter is a lucky sod.” 

“Wait, you tried to chat up Ginny Potter?!”

“I didn’t recognize her!” he moaned, putting his head in his hands as his mates erupted into laughter. God, he would never, ever hear the end of this. 

As his friends began to tease him in earnest (and really, he couldn’t blame them), Craig swore to himself that he would never try to flirt with some random girl at a bar again. He’d be single forever over ever reliving the humiliation of what happened today. Or maybe, he would write to Cressida tonight. Yes, he would write to her as soon as he got home. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was completely overwhelmed by the positive response to this story! Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read and leave such lovely comments 💕 I truly appreciate each and every one! 
> 
> As soon I finished writing Craig’s fic, I wanted to write Harry’s reaction to hearing the story of poor Craig’s misadventures in trying to flirt with Ginny. I wrote it quickly last night, so it’s heavy on dialogue, but I hope you enjoy this bit of pure fluff as much as I enjoyed writing it.

He flopped onto the bed, completely exhausted from the day. Well, really, from James, who was now (thankfully) sleeping in his cot after a mildly disastrous bath time in which he’d managed to get soapy water all over Harry’s shirt, trousers, and the entire bathroom floor, causing Harry to slip in his haste to grab his wand to do a drying charm. And then bedtime, when James climbed out of his cot three times before finally, blissfully falling asleep. 

In the stillness, he heard the door to the study close softly, the creak of the stairs, and footsteps approaching the doorway of their bedroom. He looked up as she crossed the room and sat on the other side of their bed. 

“James wear you out today?” she asked, with a knowing smile.

“Yes, I’m exhausted,” he groaned. “I feel like I’ve been through one of Oliver Wood’s training sessions. I don’t know how you do it, honestly.” 

She grinned. “You chase dark wizards for a living, but five hours alone with our toddler did you in?” 

He smiled sheepishly. “It isn’t like when he was a baby, and you could turn your back for a second to do something and he’d still be in the same place. He’s so bloody fast now. I told you about the incident with the toilet. Not to mention the climbing- I pulled him off the third shelf in the scullery not a half hour after you left!”

She laughed. “He probably just wanted a biscuit. Caught him at it last week, found him on the second shelf holding the biscuit tin. I moved it up higher, but I guess that didn’t work.”

Harry shook his head. “How do you even use the loo? I was afraid to leave him alone for a second.”

She laughed again. “I haven’t used the loo alone during the day for the past couple weeks.” 

“He’s not a baby anymore, really,” he said wistfully, thinking of their once tiny newborn, who was now saying words, toddling about, and causing all sorts of mischief.

“No, he isn’t.” 

Harry sighed. “Did you get your article finished?”

“Yes, all done and sent to my editor in time for tomorrow’s paper. It practically wrote itself thanks to the Magpie’s seeker. Not every day someone catches the snitch in under a half hour in his first game.” 

“I can’t wait to read it.” 

She smiled at him. “Thanks for bringing James up to Hogsmeade after. I’m glad we got to see Neville.”

“Me too,” he said, and then he grinned up at her. “Speaking of, now do I get to hear the story of how a bloke fresh out of Hogwarts ended up buying you a drink?”

She laughed. “I knew you’d ask again.” 

He’d asked as soon as they’d walked away from the bar, of course, his curiosity getting the better of him, as always. But she’d simply raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Later” in response to his murmured, “What was that?”

“Well?” 

“Hmmm, you’re very interested in this story,” she teased, running her hand lightly down his chest and sliding closer to him on the bed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous of my new friend Craig.” 

He laughed and shook his head. “Hardly. The poor boy looked like he wanted to die. I just want to know what you did to him.” 

“And why do you think I’m responsible?” she said feigning innocence, giving him that wide-eyed, playful look that still made his heart beat faster. 

“Well, I’d like to think I know you pretty well after nearly a decade of being with you,” he replied dryly. 

She laughed. “Alright. Well, if you must know, I was at the bar, minding my own, when my new friend came up and introduced himself to me,” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. 

“That’s bold.” He looked at her shrewdly. “And did you introduce yourself to him?”

She smirked. “I told him it was a pleasure to meet him.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I knew it.” 

“What, I should’ve said, ‘Hello Craig, I’m Ginny Potter; yes, the one married to Harry Potter. Oh, he’ll be here momentarily. Yes, please make a scene and ask for a photo so the whole pub is in a frenzy by the time he arrives with our son’?”

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” he said, chuckling harder.

“Anyhow, it was clear he didn’t recognize me, so I decided to just... let it play out. Be a good sport, but not encourage him too much. And if I got a little amusement from it along the way, well, that was just a bonus.” 

“How were you sure he didn’t recognize you?” he said, thinking darkly of all the unwelcome advances he’d fielded over the years, despite the entire wizarding world’s knowledge of he and Ginny’s relationship. 

She snorted. “Harry, he asked me,  _ very earnestly, _ if I followed Quidditch, and then followed that up by asking which team I supported.” 

He cringed, but laughed. “Merlin. Poor bloke.” 

“That’s not even the best part.”

“No?”

“Oh no,” she said, her tone becoming increasingly dramatic (a trait which he found adorable and endearing). “The best part was when he unknowingly was slagging off Percy to me.”

“Come again?” Harry spluttered. 

“I’d love to later, but I’d like to finish my story now, thank you.”

“Gin.” He was laughing so hard his shoulders were shaking. “You know, one day, that joke won’t be funny anymore.” 

“And yet, you’re still laughing.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Percy?” 

“Right, so after I mentioned that I’d recently had a career change, he told me all about his friend, who apparently took a job right out of Hogwarts in the Ministry in the Transportation Department. And his boss, the Deputy Head was, and I quote, ‘a real stickler,’ who was impossible to work for so much so that he changed jobs.” 

He laughed in earnest. “And what did you say?”

“I told him I knew the type.”

Harry roared with laughter. “How did you keep a straight face?” he gasped. 

“With great difficulty. So, then the barmaid showed up, and he offered to buy me a drink. I tried to politely decline, but he insisted, and the barmaid was getting annoyed, so I just went with it. I started to let him down gently after that, but then you showed up with James before I could tell him.”

“Poor Craig,” he said, shaking his head, still chuckling.

“He was very sweet.” 

“I’m glad you bought him a round, the kid deserved it after that.” 

“Oh, you’re team Craig, are you?”

He laughed. “Yes. I hope he finds a girl his own age though, instead of chatting up my wife.” 

She took his hand and then paused for a moment, playing with their intertwined fingers. She looked down at him through her lashes. 

“You know,” she said, her tone softer and more thoughtful. “It was refreshing, honestly. I don’t think someone who didn’t already know who I was has approached me in years. And it was flattering. I mean, he thought I was his age.”

Harry swallowed. He hated that being with him made her life harder. He hated that she’d had to give up any semblance of ever having a private life or anonymity by marrying him. As if she knew what he was thinking (and she probably did, he thought), she reached down and gently stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes at her touch, and when he opened them again, he spoke. 

“I’m not sure why you’re surprised a bloke would want to chat you up. You’re beautiful, Gin, in more ways than one.”

She leaned down and gave him a swift kiss, then sat back up, and smiled at him, still holding his hand. 

“It made my day, really. To feel like I’ve got it back after being pregnant and having James.”

“You can’t get back something you never lost.”

She beamed at him and shook her head. “Harry Potter. That was a line.”

“Well, I’ve got to keep up with Craig.”

She laughed, then leaned down to kiss him again. He deepened the kiss, pulling her on top of him and running his hands through her long, silky hair.

After a moment, she pulled back and reached for the hem of her shirt. “You sure you aren’t too tired for this?” she teased.

“I may not be eighteen anymore like your new friend, but I’ll manage, trust me,” he said, looking up at her, his eyes dark. 

“Well, I’m glad you aren’t eighteen anymore,” she said as she pulled her shirt over her head and he groaned appreciatively. “Because this will last a lot longer then.”

He laughed, and that was the last either of them thought of Craig that evening.


End file.
